


Direction

by goddessofcruelty



Category: NCIS, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Butt Plugs, Chair Sex, Desk Sex, Dildos, Dom/sub, F/F, Femslash, Femslash February, Office Sex, Rare Pairings, Sex Toys, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 15:25:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3295361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddessofcruelty/pseuds/goddessofcruelty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharp, blue eyes track the movement like a hawk on its prey and Tony hesitates a second under that gaze. And then it lifts, and somehow grows even sharper. Tony cranes his neck to see who's the recipient of that predatory gaze. </p><p>Director Shepard is gripping the rail outside her office so tightly that her knuckles are white. Their gazes are locked, and for the longest minutes, it feels like everything stops in the office, and then Shepard turns away, walks back into her office – but leaves the door open.</p><p>McGee takes a deep breath. “She would have eaten you alive, Tony, “ he says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Direction

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: what about power couple Jenny Shepherd and Victoria Argent

“Who is _that_?” Ziva's eying the tall woman who's just stepped off the elevator, red hair clipped short in a military style, suit perfectly tailored to her frame.

Tony glances up a second, and then looks up again, this time his gaze sticks, and he flashes a grin. “I'll handle this.” He rises and buttons his suit coat, takes a step around his desk towards the woman.

Sharp, blue eyes track the movement like a hawk on its prey and Tony hesitates a second under that gaze. And then it lifts, and somehow grows even sharper.

Tony cranes his neck to see who's the recipient of that predatory gaze.

Director Shepard is gripping the rail outside her office so tightly that her knuckles are white. Their gazes are locked, and for the longest minutes, it feels like everything stops in the office, and then Shepard turns away, walks back into her office – but leaves the door open.

McGee takes a deep breath. “She would have eaten you alive, Tony, “ he says.

Tony's musing after the woman's backside. “But what a way to go – Ow!”

His hand lifts to rub the back of his head, and he turns to dart a glare at his boss, who's moved on to his own desk, grabbing the backpack he's always got under there. “Got two marines dead, DiNozzo, get your head in the game.”

“On it, boss,” Tony says, grabbing his gear and nodding to Ziva, but he spares one last glance upstairs...and he _wonders_.

-

“Director Argent,” Jenny says as she leans against her desk, arms crossed.

“Director Shepard,” the taller woman returns as she steps through the doorway, then turns and closes the door, locking it securely.

Jenny arches a brow as Victoria turns around and stalks towards her, doesn't bother with preamble, just slides a hand into Jenny's hair and tugs her head backwards. Her lips crush down on the shorter woman's, and Jenny opens up to her easily, arms drifting down to curl around the edge of the desk as Victoria licks her way into the NCIS director's mouth. Jenny's leg spread wide as Victoria slots herself in between them, left arm sliding around Jenny's trim waist, hand splayed across the small of her back.

Victoria kisses her thoroughly, until she's claimed every centimeter of her mouth, until Jenny can't breathe, and only then does she pulls back, throw the shorter woman a winks, and then tug her off the desk so that she's standing in front of the FBI director.

Victoria turns her, pulls Jenny back against her chest, and unbuttons her blouse, sliding her hands inside to cup lace covered breasts, squeezing lightly before removing them, moving down to unfasten the shorter woman's slacks. Victoria tugs her pants down until just below the curve of Jenny's ass, then pushes her forward.

Jenny gets bent over her own desk, and the director of the FBI gives her pert backside a few smacks, just so she'll be able to feel them later, and then twitches the strip of her thong aside to reveal her sex, already glistening with her need.

“Mm, look at that,” murmurs Victoria as she drags a nail along the slippery folds, “Love how wet you get for me.”

But her fingers move away, and Jenny can't help a little noise of disappointment, which makes the taller redhead chuckle. “Soon, baby girl, soon. I got something else first.”

Victoria produces something from her pocket and waves it in front of Jenny's face, then bids her open her mouth. “Get that real nice and sloppy wet,” she orders, and Jenny complies, knowing that the wetter it is, the easier it will slide into her. Back behind her, Victoria is rubbing the pad of her middle finger in circles around the shorter woman's tight pucker, and then Jenny feels the soft drizzle of oil, right before Victoria pushes a finger in and twists.

Jenny make a muffled moaning noise around the plug in her mouth, and then a whimper as it's extracted, moved to her ass, where Victoria works it in until she's got it perfectly in place.

Jenny can't help but squirm against the desk, and Victoria smacks her ass again, bidding her hold still, telling her to hold onto the edge of the desk, and then she feels something hard and blunt gliding along her swollen folds, right before Victoria pushes the dildo slowly into her slick passage.

And it's not until Jenny feels the fabric of Victoria' jeans against her hips that she realizes the taller woman must have worn her harness today, and she can't help but imagine the FBI director wearing it as she went through her day. The thought makes her moan aloud, and Victoria gives a few shallow thrusts, then drapes herself across Jenny's back, shifting until she gets just the right angle for herself. There's a little ridged nob on her side of the dildo that Victoria is rubbing herself off against, basically using Jenny as a giant sex toy, hands lifting to grip the smaller woman's breasts again, long, elegant fingers pinching and rolling the NCIS director's nipples through the lace.

Victoria's thrusts come harder and faster as she chases her orgasm, but it's not enough for Jenny, who grinds down into air, seeking pressure on her clit, but finding none.

Victoria's nails dig in and mark up the pale skin of Jenny's chest as she comes, rolling her hips until she's through it, then collapsing on top of Jenny, blanketing the smaller woman as she catches her breath.

When Victoria pulls out, Jenny moan low in need, and the taller woman chuckles breathlessly. She plops down in the director's chair and spreads her legs, beckons Jenny to come to her. She pushes herself up from the desk unsteadily and walks over, wincing at the feeling of the plug inside her as she does so.

“Ride me,” Victoria commands as Jenny nears, and helps the shorter woman straddle her lap, sliding her down onto Victoria's cock. The taller woman then leans back in the chair as Jenny begins moving in her lap. “You may touch yourself,” she says after a few moments of watching.

Jenny complies immediately, hands going right to her engorged little clit and rubbing circles around it. Victoria waits until Jenny is almost there, then orders her to stop. She does so with a tiny, little cry, and the her hand is replaced by the long fingers of the other woman, and it's this that finally sends her over the edge, throwing back her head and crying out her release as Victoria expertly manipulates her body.

When Jenny's done shuddering, Victoria puts her on her knees, tells Jenny to clean her cock, and then watches with a glint in her eye as she obeys.

When its clean, Victoria rises and pulls it from the harness. She makes Jenny sit in the chair, legs over the side, and pushes the dildo right back into her. Jenny groans as it jostles the plug.

“Keep those both in for the rest of the day,” Victoria orders, zipping up her pants and righting her clothes. “I'll see you tonight.” And with that, she turns on her heel and strides out of Jenny's office, leaving the NCIS director in her own chair, thoroughly fucked out, with her clothes in disarray, and feeling stuffed full of the two devices.

Jenny glances at the clock as she pulls her slacks back up and shivers softly. It's not even lunchtime yet.

 


End file.
